| A little girl is standing at your door on Halloween
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| The face of expectation
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| And of trust in everything;
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| A little boy has thrown some heavy stones into a pond
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| Dusting off his hands
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| He’s feeling proud of what he’s done
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| The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
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| Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
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| We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
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| Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
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| Out of here (here)
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| (Here)
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| The trees turn into buildings
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| And the weeks turn into months
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| It’s one thing or another
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| Or it’s everything at once;
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| There’s two sides to each story, yes
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| And sometimes many more
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| And four bananas make a bunch
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| And two times ten’s a score
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| The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
|
| Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
|
| We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
|
| Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
|
| Out of here (here)
|
| (Here)
|
| If we weren’t in so much trouble
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| I would say that things were fine
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| And smile as I went walking
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| And just wave on down the line;
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| If there weren’t so many problems
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| I would say that it’s okay
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| And smile as I went walking
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| And just wave on down the way
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| Mothers hate war more in general than Joint Chiefs of Staff
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| Battleground statistics don’t add up in schoolhouse math;
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| The male of this here species lives for eighty years or so
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| Starts to see the mess he’s made
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| And then it’s time to go
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| The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
|
| Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
|
| We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
|
| Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
|
| Out of here (here)
|
| (Here)
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| It’s often said that life is strange, but, hey, compared to what?
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| I asked this question years ago, it’s still worth asking, but
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| It all seems stranger now, I think, but that could be just me
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| And I’ve no all-time gauge of strange for objectivity
|
| The geocentric days are gone and Earth is still a sphere
|
| Objects in the mirror may be just as they appear
|
| We spin around the sun and call each trip we make a year
|
| Thirty more years of this and, people, I am out of here
|
| Out of here (here)
|
| Out of here (here)
|
| Out of here (here)
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| Out of here (here) |